


getting lost in the dark is my favorite part

by AdhdBarryAllen



Category: Birds of Prey (Comic), DCU
Genre: Blind Date, F/F, First Dates, Fluff, and just a dash of angst cause cmon this is me we're talking about. i make everything angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 12:30:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15049085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdhdBarryAllen/pseuds/AdhdBarryAllen
Summary: Zinda Blake isn't sure if she should feel betrayed or exited when Dinah sets her up on a blind date with one of her teammates, Evelyn Crawford.





	getting lost in the dark is my favorite part

**Author's Note:**

> so i started this one in march apparently. i've just been working on it bit by bit whenever inspiration struck, and three months later, its finally done!  
> zinda/ev is my extremely valid rarepair bc theyre both gun toting gays who enjoy booze and barfights. @dc take notes.  
> the title comes from [PYNK by Janelle Monáe](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PaYvlVR_BEc) cause its a sapphic anthem.

What do you do when your ex-girlfriend-slash-former-superhero-teammate sets you up on a blind date?

Zinda, for one, was unsure. Dinah hadn’t talked to her for three months, and suddenly she texts out of the blue with a time and place for a date? Zinda had half a mind to not show up.

But she’s already here, and Dinah already paid for the reservation, so she might as well go in. And when was the last time she time was on a date anyways? Not since Barbara quit the Birds of Prey, and certainly not since Helena, Dinah, Babs, and Zinda broke up. The Birds have reformed, but it wasn’t the same at its core. Gone were Helena and Babs, leaving Dinah as its leader. She’d heard one of the other Batgirls, Stephanie Brown, was helping lead as well. A little romance would do her good, even if it only ended in a one-night fling.

She pushes open the door to the restaurant, tugging down the skirt of her tight black dress. It hugged her curves a little  _ too  _ much for her liking, but Dinah usually wasn’t wrong when she said Zinda looked good in something. A waitress greets her with fake friendliness, asking for her reservation.

“Reservation for ah, Starling. I think.”

“Right this way ma’am,” the waitress replies, walking briskly towards the table.

Zinda trails behind her, struggling to keep up in her stilettos. She cursed herself for not wearing flats. If something goes wrong tonight and she needs to fight some two-bit villain, she is really, truly, fucked.

Her date is already waiting for her, which is surprising, to say the least. A part of Zinda had expected to be stood up. She pulls out her chair and sits down. Across from her sits a brunette woman with straight, razor cut bangs, red lipstick, and her hair tied up in a neat ponytail. She wears a fitted vest over a white blouse, and through the sleeve, Zinda can see a hint of her tattoos.

“So, Evelyn Crawford?”

Her date nods, leaning her elbows on the table. “Call me Ev, unless you’re looking for a fight,” she says, eliciting a snort out of Zinda. “And you’re Zinda Blake, the woman who fell through time guns a’ blazin.’ I like it.”

“So, Dinah told you ‘bout me, I take it?”

“Not much, otherwise what’s the point of a dinner date?”

Ev smirks, and for the first time tonight, Zinda doesn’t regret leaving the house.

“Now, should we take a look at that wine menu?” Ev grins.

“Woman after my own heart!”

They order a bottle of red wine to go with their dinner, and the mischievous glance Ev shoots her as she orders it tells Zinda it’s not going to last long. With their glasses full, the conversation flows loosely. Ev regales her with her strangest tales of working at the Iceberg Lounge, and in return Zinda tells her about the time she and Helena knocked King Shark’s teeth out.

She learns that Ev’s weapon of choice is the same as hers (a handgun, black), that they both prefer whiskey over wine, and that they agree that barfights can be considered a hobby. By the time the check comes, they’ve been talking for  _ hours _ .

Zinda runs a hand through her messy curls. “Oh, gee, the restaurant is closin’ aint it. How’d we get that carried away?”

“Good company, good food, and good wine,” Ev supplies.

Zinda fishes for her wallet, but their server informs her that their evening has already been paid for. She sends Ev a confused look, but the woman only shrugs.

“Guess we owe Dinah a thank you card,” Ev says.

“Sure would seem so!” Zinda smiles.

They fetch their coats and leave a hefty tip for their server, then emerge from the restaurant and into the cool air of the Gotham night. The two women manage to wave down a cab, which is no easy feat in the dark and busy city. The whole ride home, Zinda is unsure what to do with her hands. They talk animatedly about anything and everything, and Zinda keeps her hands on her thighs, fidgeting with the hem of her dress. There’s not a lot of leg room in the backseat, seeing as both her and Ev are fairly tall  _ and _ in heels, so their legs settle comfortably against each other. The contact makes her nervous. She knows how to flirt with a girl, even how to take her home occasionally, but the warmth she feels sitting next to Ev is something she’s not sure how to handle. Despite how far she’s come, showing affection for a girl in the back of a taxi cab is still something that triggers her fight or flight response.

Ev takes notice of Zinda’s furrowed brows and clenched hands and settles a soothing hand on her thigh. “Everything okay, Zinda?”

Zinda nods, then closes her eyes to drown out everything but the feeling of Ev’s hand on her thigh. Her rapid heartrate comes to a slow, steady rhythm. Zinda places her hand on top of Ev’s, giving it a squeeze. “Better now. Thank you.”

“I didn’t do a thing, doll,” Ev says, brushing soft circles with her thumb on the inside of Zinda’s wrist. Zinda smiles back.

Their cab lurches to a halt, and Zinda fumbles for her wallet to pay the driver, reluctantly letting go of Evelyn’s hand in the process. “Do ya… Would ya wanna come up to my place with me? I’ll give you the grand tour,” Zinda suggests with a wink.

With one foot out the cab door, she offers the woman her hand. She hasn’t tried taking anyone home in ages (which she suspects both Ev and Dinah knew, otherwise she wouldn’t be on this date), but she’s still got some charm left in her bones. Either Ev says no, and they go their separate ways, or she says yes and this night becomes a one-night stand or something more. She wouldn’t risk propositioning the woman if she didn’t think she had a fairly good chance of getting her in bed.

Ev’s lips spread in to a knowing smile, and  _ god  _ it looks unbelievably sexy on her. She takes Zinda’s hand and Zinda helps her out of the cab. “Don’t mind if I do,” she laughs. “Honestly, I was beginning to think you’d never ask.”

“I was beginnin’ to think you’d say no,” Zinda confesses.

“And pass up on a dynamite gal like you? Never.”

Zinda leans in her and Ev responds, meeting her lips enthusiastically. The kiss is soft and sweet, but both women can feel the promise of more to come. As they kiss, bodies illuminated by streetlights and the moon overhead, they aren’t vigilantes. They aren’t Lady Blackhawk and Starling, and right now the world doesn’t need saving. Right now, they’re just Zinda and Ev, two women sharing an embrace on the sidewalks of Gotham and living under the stars.

 


End file.
